


Foxtrot Romeo India Echo November Delta

by x_meiko_rose_x



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 18:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_meiko_rose_x/pseuds/x_meiko_rose_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Marty Crieff was eight years old when he met four year old Arthur Shappy. The story of their friendship, why we hate Simon, and why Bullies can't fly Planes!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foxtrot Romeo India Echo November Delta

Foxtrot Romeo India Echo November Delta.  
A Cabin Pressure fanfic.

 

If Martin Crieff stopped to think about his childhood, which he tried not to, he supposed that he hadn’t been a particularly happy child: His oldest sibling Simon had tried his hardest to alienate Martin from the rest of his family and his elder sister Caitlin didn’t seem to care about him one way or another. He supposed that his parents had loved him, his mother certainly did though she didn’t often say so and his father had cared for him in his own way. Martin didn’t have to be a genius – which was fortunate because Martin Crieff was many things but never a genius – to work out that his father had always wished he would give up his silly dreams about being a pilot and just go into something sensible like engineering but that didn’t mean he hadn’t cared for him in general.

If Martin were to stop and think very hard- which he defiantly tried not to do very often- he could remember a time when he hadn’t been so very unhappy he had been around seven or eight and he had just started school for the year.

 

***

 

Little Marty Crieff sat in the playground and was really quite pleased with himself, he was eight years old now which meant that this was his first year in Year Four at school. That meant that he wasn’t an ‘infant’ anymore he was officially a ‘junior’ and this in turn meant that his big brother Simon would have to stop calling him a baby now because … well because he just wasn’t anymore that was all. Marty also felt that people should start calling him ‘Martin’ now, because after all Marty was a baby name. He suspected that this was not a fight he would win any time soon.

Swinging his legs as he sat on the wide ledge that ran around the outside of the school he watched the other children play as his fingers absentmindedly folded a sheet of A4 paper into an aeroplane. Marty didn’t really have too many friends his mother said that was his own fault and that he should try talking to them, she said that Simon had never had any trouble making friends and that he was just been stubborn. Marty said that if all of the boys didn’t only want to talk about football then maybe he would talk to them and for some reason he turned bright red and stuttered every time a girl talked to him. Not that it mattered it wasn’t as if he wanted to talk to girls anyway. Girls were like his sister Caitlin, they were silly and giggled and whispered behind their hands. Really he found them quite childish.  
He could see Caitlin across the playground talking to a large group of girls; she was ten – nearly eleven – she’d be going up to the big school next year with Simon. Marty wasn’t sure whether he liked this idea or not.

***

 

Around the other side of the school Arthur Shappey sat in the middle of the infant’s playground listening to the teachers drone on. It was his first ever day at proper school and he missed his mummy already. Just that morning Arthur’s daddy had sat him down and told him that big boys of four didn’t carry on crying about missing their mummy’s when they were only away from them for a couple of hours, he said that if Arthur kept up like that then the big boys would bully him. That didn’t bother him; Arthur didn’t really let anything bother him too much he was just different like that he supposed.

Letting his attention wander from what the teacher was telling them – something about Stranger Danger, which he already knew – and looked over to the junior side of the school. The teachers had already told them that they weren’t allowed over there but Arthur wanted to know why. Arthur was at that stage in life where “Why?” was his favourite question. His mummy always answered him although his daddy said that she was making things up to make him shut up. Arthur wasn’t sure if he believed that. He didn’t think that Mummy’s were allowed to tell lies.

Looking over at that side of the school his little eyes were drawn to the bright red head sat apart from everyone else, his brow furrowed in innocent confusion as he wondered why that little boy wasn’t playing with all of the other boys and girls but then his attention was drawn away as the teachers were leading the children back into the school. Arthur did not think about the red headed boy again that day.

 

***

 

Two weeks later Marty was beginning to think that perhaps Year Four wasn’t all that exciting after all; it seemed to be very much the same as Year Three really. And Simon was still calling him a baby which he wasn’t! He was sat on his ledge as usual eating the small pieces of cheese that his mother has packed in his lunch box.

 

“Hello!”

 

Marty started at the high childish voice and dropped his lunch, he looked up scowling at the plump smiling boy in front of him, “You aren’t supposed to be round here. This side is just for the Juniors.”

“Oh…”The boys grin didn’t falter “Why is that?”

The little boy had a lisp because of his missing front two teeth and he didn’t pronounce his th’s properly but that wasn’t what threw Marty off. He wasn’t used to people asking him questions he faulted slightly as he looked at the boys expectant face, “I – I don’t know. It just is.” He watched as the first year nodded accepting this information completely, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Arthur!” he chirped, “Who are you?”

Marty cleared his throat and put on his best grown up voice “Martin Crieff. Pleased to meet you.”

 

***

 

Marty trailed home his hand clasped firmly in Caitlin’s,

“Caaaaaaitlin,” he moaned half heartedly, “You don’t need to hold my hand, I’m not a baby.”

“Mother says that I have to so I am,” Caitlin murmured distractedly, “Marty? Who’s that little boy that keeps following you around the playground?”

“That’s Arthur, he’s in Year One.” Marty smiled happily, “He’s my friend. He says that planes are brilliant! I like planes too you know Caitlin. One day I’d like to fly one, do you think that I could? Arthur said that he wanted to be a plane but I told him that was silly, only little children think that they can be things.”

His sister had only been half listening but she looked up at that, “Until two years ago you wanted to ‘Be A Plane.’ ” She reminded him gently.

“Yes… but that was when I was a little boy, I know better now.” He nodded decidedly. “But Arthur doesn’t think he wants to drive planes, he just wants to ride in them. I was telling him about how they stay up, did I tell you? I read it in my book it says that -”

Caitlin had no idea that she’d been cutting her brother off mid flow; she had stopped listening some time ago, “You don’t have to let him trail around after you, just tell a teacher and they’ll tell him to get back to his own playground.”

Marty frowned slightly, “But I don’t mind him… I think he’s my friend now.”

His sister peered at him through her long red hair; she’d never heard her brother talk about having friends before. Sometimes she worried about him, and she was especially worried about next year when she would go to High School, she was the only person that he really talked to at school. Maybe it was a good thing that he was making a friend; did it really matter if that friend was half his age? “Oh. Then maybe you should ask mother if he can come over and play sometime, she’d be happy you’re making friends.” She giggled as she watched her little brother’s face light up.

“Really? Do you really think she’d let me? I have his phone number! Could I ask her tonight? We could play Planes on the swings!”

 

Caitlin felt her brain tune out as she carried on walking… really just when she though they were getting somewhere he had to start talking about those stupid planes again!

 

***

 

Arthur walked home by himself that day, it was a long walk – almost an hour – and he only had little legs. His mummy had been busy and she’d asked daddy to pick him up in the car but he must have forgotten. He did that sometimes when he was busy. Arthur didn’t mind though. His daddy always seemed happiest when he was working and he liked it when his daddy was happy. He’d tripped over twice on the way home and by the time he got there he was a little bit dirty.

He reached up on his tippy toes and pressed the door bell putting his hands behind his back and rocking on the soles of his feet as he waited for it to be answered. He didn’t have to wait long the door was wrenched open and his daddy stood looking at him, that funny smell was there too. Arthur knew that if he smelt that funny smell then he should go upstairs –that was when his daddy was when his daddy didn’t feel very well.

 

“Oh.” Daddy grunted, “You made it home then. Look at the state of you boy! Go upstairs and clean up.” Arthur hesitated, wondering if he should get Daddy a cup of coffee… that was what Mummy normally did. “Now!” His daddy barked, and Arthur ran.

Later that night Arthur was curled up in his bed hugging his teddy to his chest. Mummy and Daddy were fighting again and he hid his tear stained face in Gerti’s neck. Arthur never cried where Daddy could see him; Daddy would tell him that he was being a “Ruddy fool” and probably spank him to boot.

 

Much much later that night Carolyn Shappey snuck into her son’s room and held the sleeping boy close, she loved her son so much, her innocent, constantly cheerful son. Sometimes she didn’t understand how he was so happy all of the time. She thought about how she didn’t know how much longer she could remain married to Gordon and wondered how Arthur would take it when it was time for them to leave.

 

A very much awake Arthur felt himself being gathered into his mummy’s arms and shut his eyes tight. He felt her tears hitting his neck just like his had been hitting Gerti’s earlier. Arthur wasn’t always happy but he thought that maybe if he acted cheerfully it would rub off on Mummy and all he wanted was for his mummy to be happy.

 

As he felt himself fall asleep for real he remembered his new friend Martin and smiled as he thought that maybe - just maybe tomorrow would be so brilliant that he could forget about all of this for another day.

 

***

 

“So then me and Mummy went to see the new plane that Daddy wants to buy, it’s just a little plane but Mummy says that it’s too big but Daddy says that he wants it so that means that he ‘probly will get it.” Arthur nattered on unaware of just how interested his friend was.

“A real plane? Your father is going to buy a real plane?”

 

“Mmmhmm.” The younger boy murmured unconcerned as he coloured in, “S’cool. Look Martin, I drew you!”

Marty cocked his head to one side and looked over the picture it seemed to show a stick figure with a huge head covered in bright red scribbles, “Riiight,” Marty remembered his early drawings and knew to be careful as to what he said “You know my hair isn’t that colour right Arthur?”

“Hmm sort of. They don’t make a ginger crayon though do they Martin?” Arthur smiled as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ah, right.” Marty replied somewhat stiffly, “So why’s my head so big?” He watched a faint blush creeping up the little boys face and Marty used the voice his father always used when he really wanted you to tell the truth, “Arthur?”

“Well… it’s just… you always tell me stuff an’ it’s like you know everything so I thought if someone knew everything then they’d have to have a pretty big head to keep it all. Was that wrong?” Arthur looked upset,

Marty stared at the round faced boy for a full minute before he spoke. This little boy thought he knew everything. He looked up to him. Him. Martin Crieff – no one had looked up to him in his life. Swallowing the lump that had somehow appeared in his throat and reached out to the upset boy, he ruffled his hair like his mother sometimes did to him. “It’s not wrong Arthur.” Suddenly Marty smiled, “Hey! Do you want to play Planes?”

Sadness forgotten Arthur nodded so hard that Marty feared that his head would fall off, “Yeah! You can be the main flyer!”

Marty turned to Arthur with a superior look on his face, “You call them the Captain Arthur. I’m the Captain.” He watched Arthur scrunch up his nose at this word and thought hard, “I saw a show once where they called the captain Skipper. You could call me that if you want?”

Arthur’s face lit up, “Ok Skip! So you’re the Skipper Skip! I could be … I could be…”He thought hard, “One of those people who serve tea to people!” He finally decided with a grin, which faltered as he saw Marty’s frown, “Martin?”

“Well… it’s just – those people are usually women Arthur. I think they have to be. I think it might be the law.”

Arthur laughed, “Oh that doesn’t matter Skip. Not so long as I have a hat!” He said serenely with childish logic.

Thinking hard Marty sat down and folded one of the coloured on pieces of paper until it resembled an upside down boat, he looked at it once more and then handed it out to Arthur. “There you go. I made it myself!”

 

***

 

Marty and Arthur had now been friends for nearly six months and Arthur had been around for tea at Marty’s precisely twenty one times. Marty was always very careful to invite Arthur around when Simon wasn’t there, he didn’t care if Caitlin was around – she left them to it – but he was worried about letting Arthur around his older brother.

Simon was a big boy at fourteen he was in Year Nine at big school, next year he’d be going into Year Ten – that seemed terribly big to both Marty and Arthur. Marty hated his older brother. He knew that it was wrong to hate people but Simon was always mean to him. He told him that he was an accident (although Marty wasn’t really sure what this meant it didn’t make him feel very nice) and that he was their parents least favourite. He called him a baby and told him that he’d never be a Captain because he was too stupid. He pushed him and sometimes if he thought Marty was being particularly annoying he would cuff him around the ear.

It wasn’t that Marty was scared of Simon no matter what Simon was he wasn’t! He just didn’t like it. It made him cry which was embarrassing. Sometimes Caitlin would tell Simon to stop but then she would back down when he glared at her, she didn’t want to be next. The problem was, Marty often though later when he was a bit older, That Caitlin never seemed to care quite enough, she was always a little behind where she needed to be.

Marty had thought long and hard about whether he wanted his newest friend to meet his older brother and he had decided that he didn’t. He was worried that Simon would bully Arthur too, which he didn’t want. But he was also worried that he would pick on him with Arthur around and that would ruin everything! Arthur was like his little brother, he looked up to him and if he saw Simon being mean then maybe he wouldn’t anymore. As it was Marty hadn’t had a choice on this day, Simon had meant to be going out but their mother had told him that he had to stay in for some reason.

So as Marty and Arthur pretended they were flying on the tree swing they had no idea that Simon was still in the house. In a very bad mood.

 

***

 

“Mother that isn’t fair! You can’t just make me stay in!” Simon whined, sounding much younger than he was. He glowered at the tall teenager who was sat at the kitchen table snorting into his glass of coke as he tried not to laugh. “I don’t even like the git!”

His mother turned around her hands on her hips, “Language Simon! Now your father knows Douglas’ mother and she asked me if he could stay here for the day while she’s working. He is in your year and I don’t imagine that he wants to spend the day with your eleven year old sister or your eight year old brother and his friend. And so you will stay home today and you will be nice. Do you understand me Simon Nicholas Crieff?”

 

“Yes Mother.” Simon sighed he turned to the other boy, “Come on then. Let’s go and play swingball or something.” He stormed out of the kitchen into the Garden.

“Oh if you insist.” Douglas drawled strolling after the angry teen smirking.

 

***

 

An hour later Douglas was actually enjoying himself quite a lot. He didn’t particularly like Swingball – personally he could not understand the appeal of a tennis ball attached to a line of elastic – but he was proficient enough at it to have beaten Simon twelve times, and smacked him in the face with the tennis ball. Really he was just enjoying watching the redhead’s face grow redder and redder as he got angrier and more frustrated the more he lost. He’d been furious at his Mum for leaving him here. Simon wasn't someone he considered quite on his level, but perhaps this day would be more fun than he thought.

As Simon set up the game for another go – he was insistent that he would beat Douglas at least once – Douglas lounged on the grass and looked around the spacious back yard. There was a large tree at the back where two young boys appeared to be making loud engine like noises whilst they both stood on the same swing and a little way off them a girl that looked like a Year Seven was lying on her stomach reading a magazine.

“Ready.” Simon grunted.

Five minutes later he had lost again. Douglas stood chuckling, “Another go?”

Simon scowled and snapped his head around as the little boys noises got louder, “Oi brat! Shut the fuck up!” He stormed his way over to the swing and Douglas followed shaking his head, was this idiot really going to take this out on his little brother?

Simon reached the two boys and grabbed his brother by the collar dragging him off the swing. He sneered at him, “Marty you put me off my game! Can’t you and your little friend take your game somewhere else?”

“We weren’t doing anything.” Marty sulked, standing up to his brother as he was very aware that Arthur was watching with wide eyes, “We were just playing Planes!”

Douglas watched with a raised eyebrow as the older redhead shoved his brother’s shoulders and laughed cruelly, “That rubbish again? You know what Dad said, stop being an idiot Marty!”

“Hey!” Marty swung around and shook his head desperately at the younger boy but Arthur didn’t listen, he jumped off the swing and stormed in front of his friend. Douglas got the impression that the little red cheeked boy wanted to be face to face with the older boy, but realistically his nose reached Simons belt buckle. “You leave Skip alone! He’s goin’ to be a Captain an’ I’m goin’ to be his Cabin crew an’ it’s goin’ to brilliant. And you can’t come on our plane ‘cause you’re a bully. An’ bullies can’t fly Planes!” Arthur had never been this angry before and his whole body shook with the effort of it.

Simon laughed loudly and turned to Douglas who just glared back, he swung back to look at the boy in front of him. “What the hell do you know? You’re just a couple of babies!”

Douglas glanced in disbelief at Simon’s sister but she just looked harder at her magazine and if she couldn’t hear what was going on. He couldn’t believe she wasn’t stopping her brother from being such a bully! One of the little boys was crying and the other didn’t look far off although at the minute his good natured face was alight with anger.

“WE ARE NOT BABIES!” The younger boy pulled up his foot and stamped hard on Simons bare foot with his little boot, Douglas nearly laughed out loud until he saw Simon’s open palm raised high above his head.

“Why you little -!” He cut off and swung around to stare disbelief at Douglas who had his own hand wrapped tightly around the ginger teenager’s wrist.

“I think that’s enough, don’t you Simon?” He asked coldly, not waiting for an answer he turned his slightly softened gaze on a trembling Arthur, “I think maybe you should go and call your mum to pick you up kid.”

Arthur nodded and after giving Marty a quick hug he raced towards the house, Douglas barely registered the youngest Crieff scaling a rope ladder and disappearing into a tree house before he turned his fiery gaze back onto his classmate.

 

***

 

Marty was curled up in the corner of his tree house in tears. All he wanted was one friend. He hadn’t thought that he needed one but he’d been wrong. Arthur Shappey made him feel like a proper kid and not the weird one with the aeroplanes. But now thanks to stupid Simon that had been ruined! Arthur had had to defend him and he was four years younger than him. When he stopped to think about it he wasn’t going to want to be friends with him –

“And it’s all stupid Simon’s fault!”

He heard a deep chuckle and started as he stared at the teenager sat sprawled out by the tree house door, “Well I can’t argue with you there.”

“He’s just – he’s so -” Suddenly Marty’s face clouded over and his eyes snapped to Douglas’ “You didn’t even tell him to stop until he was going to hit Arthur! Why didn’t you make him stop?”

Douglas moved so that he was sat in front of the distraught boy, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Hey! Just because you didn’t hear something doesn’t mean it didn’t happen okay? Trust me he won’t bother you for a while.” He cleared his throat and lent back, his tone adopting its more comfortable drawl, “So a Captain huh?”

Marty nodded and wiped his nose on the back of his hand, “I know it’s stupid. Father says I should just forget it.”

“Huh. Well I think forgetting it would be more stupid. I’m going to be a Captain you know?”

“Really? You?” Marty looked up at the strong big boy in front of him and thought that maybe if he wanted to be Captain too then maybe it wasn’t such a stupid dream after all.

Douglas straightened up and headed towards the ladder before he looked over his shoulder and winked, “I look forward to working with you, Sir.”

 

***

 

Douglas returned from hiding a lemon on top of Arthur’s handmade hat and threw a lazy grin at Captain Martin Crieff.

“Cuba to Aruba.”

“Ah yes… good one. Let’s see.”

Douglas found it amazing that neither of the two of them recognised the other for the childhood best friend they’d had until the Crieff’s had moved when Martin was ten. He remembered and though he never reminded the two of them he often sat back and took a break from his sarcastic comments to look at the two men and remember the two boys playing Plane on a swing and how much they’d unwittingly helped each other through.

“Take your time; we wouldn’t want you to strain yourself, Sir.”

FIN.

**Author's Note:**

> So, that's that! Feedback is always nice guys :)


End file.
